Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/382



I look on thee once more,— I gaze on thee and sigh, To think how soon some hearts run o'er With love, and then run dry.

I need not marvel long That love in thee expires, For shallowest streams have loudest song, Most smoke the weakest fires.

I deemed thee once sincere,— Once thought thy breast must be A fountain gushing through the year With living love for me!

For so it was with mine, The well-springs of my soul Were opened up, and streamed to thine, As their appointed goal.

And now they wander on, O'er barren sands unblest, Since falsehood placed its seal upon Thy fair, but frozen, breast!